Chapter 26
H annah woke to a high-pitched wailing. She sat up, disoriented. “What’s that?”
Tom was already on his feet, yanking on his cargo pants. The heat between them from only hours ago vanished beneath the shriek of the siren.
His jaw was tight. “That’s the air raid alert. We’re under attack. Get dressed. Now.”
She rolled out of bed, then stumbled toward the bathroom, her heart racing.
The explosion hit a second later.
A blinding flash seared the room white. The window shattered inwards as a fireball punched through the air. The blast knocked Tom off his feet, slamming him into the wardrobe with a sickening crack. The shockwave hurled a chair across the room and splintered the side of the bedframe.
“Tom!”
She stumbled back in, trying to avoid the glass and debris strewn on the floor. Smoke poured through the shattered window, thick with the stench of gunpowder and scorched concrete.
Tom lay sprawled against the floor, half-covered in dust and plaster. Blood trickled from his temple.
She dropped beside him, heart pounding. “Tom, can you hear me?”
He groaned, one hand lifting to his head. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Don’t move,” she said, brushing debris off his shoulders. “You might be concussed.”
He shook his head slowly, then winced. The streetlamp outside gave an apocalyptic flicker, then died, casting the room in darkness.
Outside, the dust was still settling.
“I’ll be okay,” he said groggily. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
She pulled on her shoes, then scrambled around collecting her clothes, before disappearing into the bathroom. Once dressed, she ran back to Tom.
Another bang, musted this time, but the sky lit up like a strobe.
“It’s begun.” Tom was sitting up, fully dressed, and tying his shoelaces. He still looked disheveled, and a little bit out of it, but he was making sense. If he was concussed, it was a mild one. She breathed a sigh of relief. It could have been a lot worse.
“The army?”
He nodded. “They’re attacking while people are getting ready for morning prayers.”
She looked at him in alarm. “What should we do?”
The door burst open and Jamal appeared. He was wearing the same clothing as the day before, with the addition of a military vest holding spare rounds and other gear. His brow was creased into a frown.
“I’ve been with Abu-al-Rashid’s men. Luckily we had a few minutes’ warning to signal the siren.” He looked from Tom to Hannah. “We’d better move.”
“On it.” Tom reached for his pack, which sat in the corner of the room. “Let me get my gear on.”
If Jamal noticed the mussed-up mattress and entangled sheets, he didn’t let on. “Meet me downstairs in two. We’ll go out the kitchen entrance.”
Tom’s face was set in a grimace as he walked toward the door.
“You’re not all right,” Hannah said, taking his arm.
“I’m fine. Just annoyed at myself. This is my fault. I knew the attack was imminent. We all did. I should have been better prepared.”
“How can it be your fault?” she argued, leading him to the stairs. “You had nothing to do with that explosion.”
“I was in bed with you while the army moved in,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “I should have seen it coming, should have been prepared, but I let my guard down.” His voice cracked. “I put the mission at risk. I put your life at risk.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Hannah said, though her chest tightened. Last night had meant something to her. It had felt real—raw and close and honest. She’d trusted him, surrendered to him. She’d cried out his name. And now he was looking at it like a failure.
How could what they’d shared be a mistake?
“What if you’d been killed by that mortar?” he said. “What if we’re both killed as we walk out the door?”
“You couldn’t have done anything to prevent that,” she reasoned. “We’re caught up in a civil war, an uprising that has nothing to do with us.”
“Exactly,” he said, holding onto the banister as they made their way downstairs. “It’s a war zone. I should be making sure we’re safe, planning our escape, not frolicking around in bed with you.”
Stung, she released his arm.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Hannah, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I don’t regret last night, it’s just that...”
“Don’t worry, I get it,” she snapped. “There are more important things to do than frolic with me.”
He didn’t reply.
Heart wrenching, she stomped downstairs and into the kitchen. He could make his own way down. There was certainly nothing wrong with his brain if he’d come to that conclusion already.
A second explosion shook the whole building. It was another mortar, aimed at the rebel-held suburb.
“Let’s go!” Jamal called, his hand on the back door.
Tom marched in. “Ready.”
Without another word, they left the safehouse and slipped out into the night.
The air was laced with cordite. Hannah could smell it as they hid in the shadows behind Jamal. Both he and Tom held their rifles in front of them, locked and loaded.
“Stay together,” barked the rebel leader, half running, half crouching as he moved down the road.
Tom nodded at her. “After you.”
Hannah took off after Jamal, while he brought up the rear. He was protecting her, making sure there were no nasty surprises from behind. She liked to think it was because he cared about her, but she knew he was just doing his job.
She could tell the two men had worked together before. It was the way they moved, in symmetry. Jamal would run to the end of the street, pause, wait for them to catch up, then they’d swap positions. Tom would take the lead, with Jamal looking out behind them. At the next block, they’d swap again.
“We need a plan of action,” Jamal said, as they paused beside a burned-out garage to catch their breath. “Obviously the car-smuggling plan has gone out the window.”
Hannah stared at him. “You were going to smuggle me out of here in the trunk of a car? That doesn’t sound like a very good plan to me.”
Tom glanced at Jamal who said, “It was a good idea. I have agents in the military who would have taken you out in their army vehicle. No inspections. You would have been home free—or at least gotten most of the way to Hamesh on the coast.”
She blinked, feeling stupid. “I’ve changed my mind. That does sound like a good plan. Can’t we still do that?”
“Possibly. I need to get to my men and regroup. Everything has—what’s the phrase?—gone to hell in a handbasket now that the army has attacked. I thought we’d have more time, but I was wrong. I have no idea where my agents are. We’ve lost contact.”
“Where’s your rendezvous point?” Tom asked as they set off again.
“Northern suburbs, al-Hazra.” Jamal dropped his voice. “That’s where we’re going to launch our defensive. Al-Rashid is mobilizing troops as we speak.”
“This attack might play in our favor,” Tom said thoughtfully. “If we can get out during the chaos, they won’t notice she’s gone. They’ll will be too busy fighting to worry about searching vehicles.”
“True. If I can locate my men, we may still be able to work out a plan.”
“Let’s hope your guys put up a good fight,” murmured Tom. “The more firepower you have, the more distracted the army will be.”
“And the more likely we’ll be hit by something,” she added, unable to help herself. It seemed madness to be heading into the midst of the fighting.
Both Jamal and Tom turned to stare at her.
“Sorry, but it’s true.”
Tom adjusted his rifle, then looked up at Jamal. “We’ll come with you to the rendezvous point and try to get out in the thick of the army assault.”
Hannah stared at him. Maybe the explosion had affected his brain. “You want to head straight towards the front line?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
She threw her hands up in the air. “We’re going to die.”
Unless she did something about it.
She turned to Tom. “What if we bypass the fighting and head west. According to the map you guys were looking at this afternoon, that’s the fastest way out of town. It’ll take us through the Old City, across the bridge over the gorge, after which there’s a road that breaks off to the south.”
“How do you know that?” barked Jamal.
“Photographic memory. I don’t have time to get into it.”
He gave her a strange look, then turned to Tom.
“It’s true,” he said, although he was frowning.
Jamal turned back to her, his jaw tense. “You are right. It would be but there are two problems with your plan.”
“What problems?” If her memory served her correctly, and it always did, that was the fastest way out of the city.
Tom shot her a warning look. She swallowed, knowing she mustn’t let slip about the real reason they needed to get out of Syman—the intel.
“The town is surrounded,” Jamal said. “The army will have troops mobilized around the entire perimeter. The other problem is the bridge. It no longer exists. It got blown up weeks ago.”
Shit. She hadn’t accounted for the map being out of date.
“The army now controls all exits out of town. The gorge is be a natural barrier. You can’t get out that way.”
Her heart sank. So much for that idea. “So, our only option is to head right into the danger zone?”
Tom nodded. “That is where the rebel defenses will be strongest. If we’ve got any chance of getting out of Jemah, it will be when the army attacks the rebels to the north. It’s our only hope.”
It made a crazy kind of sense. If the army was preoccupied with a strong opposition, they might be able to slip away undetected.
She gave a reluctant nod. “Okay.”
They set off again, the men falling into the same formation, backing each other up and keeping her safe in the middle. Street by street, they inched their way through the town under attack.
Civilians huddled in darkened buildings, too scared to go outside. Freedom fighters and armed sympathizers ran through the streets, shouting rapid instructions to each other, but most were heading north, like them, to the rebel stronghold.
In the distance, machine gun fire punctuated the air. Hannah didn’t want to think why that was or who it was aimed at. Every now and then, a mortar would hit and there’d be a loud bang followed by screams and the sound of rubble falling.
It was a nightmare.
Finally, they rounded a corner and spotted a group of rebels sheltering behind a concrete wall.
“These are my men,” Jamal announced, going over to greet them. Two of the rebels she recognized from the truck journey the previous day. A couple of them nodded to Tom, but they all ignored her.
It was just as well. She didn’t want anyone remembering her face. Fastening her scarf securely, she tucked it under the black robe.
Up ahead, the rebels had barricaded the road with square concrete blocks about shoulder height. They provided cover for the rebels and protection from the sporadic incoming artillery fire from the north.
Shots were fired, but she couldn’t work out where they were coming from.
“Snipers,” Tom murmured, scanning the rooftops.
She flattened herself against the concrete, trying to make herself as thin a target as possible. She was afraid that if she moved suddenly, someone would see her and shoot.
Tom conferred with Jamal’s men. There was a lot of hand signals and head nodding, but eventually he turned to her, his expression grim.
“They’re getting ready to advance.”
She watched as a small group darted forward to the concrete blocks. They hunkered down, weapons pointed through the cracks.
“Abu-al-Rashid and his men are farther forward. There’s another barricade closer to the enemy line. We need to see if we can reach it.”
Hannah felt her pulse jump erratically. “Are you sure?” She couldn’t even see beyond the concrete blocks. Who knew what was out there? Bombs, snipers, enemy fire.
“There could be snipers out there,” she whispered, worriedly.
“There probably are,” Tom confirmed with a shrug, as if it was inevitable. “We’re going to have to take our chances. Stay low and against the walls, and you should be okay.”
“I don’t know if I can do this, Tom.” Her legs refused to move.
“You have to.” He faced her. “This is the only way.”
She reached under her robes and pulled a piece of paper out of an inside pocket. “Here. I want you to have this.”
He frowned. “What is it?”
“You know what it is.”
Last night, before she’d gone to bed, she’d found a pen and a piece of paper and written down the addresses of all five of the safe houses mentioned in the official memo.
He stared at her. “You didn’t’ have to.”
“I did. If anything happens to me… if I don’t make it out… you can still stop this war.”
She couldn’t live with herself if it had been in her power to do something to save these people and she hadn’t.
He touched her face. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“You can’t make that promise.”
“Get down!” yelled Jamal, as a high-pitched whistle cut through the air.
Tom threw his body on top of hers just as the building next to them exploded in a ball of fire.